Revenge
by Elf Eye
Summary: Another in "The Nameless One" series. Set after "Things Get Messy."
1. Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

            It was more than a few weeks before Elladan and Elrohir returned from their campaign against the Orcs that were infiltrating the lands near Imladris.  It was, in fact, several months.  They were away from Rivendell long enough for their hair to have grown back over their ears, although it was not yet quite long enough to be braided.  The twins had not, however, delayed their return in order to give their hair time to grow in.  Once they had tracked down and eradicated one band of Orcs, it seemed as if two sprang up in its place.  After this had happened several times, they at last agreed that they should return home to report on this alarming state of affairs.

            They rode into Rivendell with their hoods down—enough time had passed for them to recover from their shame at having lost their hair.  The first Elf who laid eyes upon them was Baramagor, Thoron's cousin.

            Elladan!   Elrohir!  Mae govannen."

            "Mae govannen, Baramagor.  You look well."

            "I am well, thank you.  I have just come back from patrol with Berenmaethor."

            "Ah," chuckled Elrohir, "how goes the skivvy duty?"

            Baramagor fixed him with an indignant glare.  "Skivvy duty!  No, indeed!  I am," he said loftily, "Berenmaethor's assistant in the training of novices.  There are several Elves younger than I, so I need not lift so much as a stick."

            The twins stared at Baramagor with frank astonishment.  It did not seem so long ago that he had been the youngest.  But they had to concede that, once Baramagor had found his stomach for battle, he had proved to be a doughty warrior.  Anomen had told them of how Baramagor had boldly leaped off their horse as they had desperately tried to outrun the wargs that had pursued them to Fangorn.  He had been ready to sacrifice his life for his friend, and, had Anomen not succeeded in turning the horse, he would have indeed been slain.  Such calculating nerve boded well for Baramagor's future as a leader of Elves.

            "So," said Elladan, "are any of the novices as creative as _we were?"_

            "If by 'creative' you mean as mischievous as you two, I must say no.  Actually," confessed Baramagor, "Sometimes I wish that they were.  It is tiresome to always stride about looking serious and behaving responsibly.  I marvel how Glorfindel has been able to do it all these millennia."

            "Well," grinned Elrohir, "_we_ have certainly done our best to give him reason to set aside his composed demeanor!"

            The three Elves laughed.

            "And how is your cousin Thoron?" asked Elladan.

            "He is a patrol leader in his own right," said Baramagor proudly.

            "A patrol leader!   Of novices or full-fledged warriors?"

            "Novices for now, but I believe he will soon be given command of a band of more experienced scouts."

            "And Anomen?"

            Baramagor grinned.  "Anomen spends part of each day in the library being lessoned by Erestor and the rest on the training fields."

            The twins gaped at Baramagor.

            "What," cried Elladan, "has Anomen done to be punished so!?"

            "Oh, he is not being punished.  He is Estel's keeper, for he is the only one who can make sure that he shows up in the library or on the training fields at the set time—and that he stays put once he arrives!  Elrond said that, as Anomen was going to be in the library anyway, he should continue his studies.  As for his time on the training field, Glorfindel has set him to schooling the elflings in archery.  Soon he will also be training certain of the older elflings in two-bladed knife fighting.  He will not, however, be giving equestrian lessons!  He fell off and broke a rib!"

            "Anomen fell off a horse!  That cannot be so!" exclaimed Elladan.

            "Oh, but it is.  Truth be told, however, it was Estel pulled him off the horse.  Anomen had the bad luck to land on a rock, and Estel landed on top of him—that's why his rib broke.  Once he has healed, Glorfindel does mean to have him supervise some of the younger riders."

            "It seems that much has happened in our absence," said Elrohir thoughtfully.  "And we have news as well, although I am afraid it will not be as entertaining as yours has been.  But we will leave that for later.  Now we are going to bathe and change into fresh clothes!"

"As to bathing," said Baramagor, "I should warn you that Anomen has sworn to pay you back for the loss of his hair.  Watch your back!"

"Ah, but," observed Elladan, "as we have just arrived, I am sure that we are safe at least for today!"

"Perhaps," said Baramagor.  "Stay well.  I will see you at dinner.  My patrol is dining as a group at one of the lower tables.  Stop by and greet us."

"We will," chorused the twins.

It is true that the twins had just returned, but they should not have been so complacent.  Anomen had known that he would have no warning of the twin's return.  So it was that Anomen long ago had put into effect his plan for revenge.  You may be sure that it would involve a healthy dose of 'poetic justice'—or 'irony' if you are of Erestor's point of view.

Unlike Anomen, the twins preferred bathing under cover, and a bathing cauldron large enough for two stood in a room near their chambers.  They asked a servant to fill it with warm water.  Shortly thereafter, with sighs of contentment, they slid into the soothing bath.  On a shelf within easy reach sat several bottles of oils, lotions, soaps, and shampoos.  Elladan reached for one bottle of shampoo for himself and another for his brother.  He uncorked his.  "Mmm," he said happily.  "This shampoo smells wonderful."  He poured some into a hand and then worked it into his hair.  The lather was crimson, no doubt taking its color from the berries that made the shampoo so aromatic.  His brother, meanwhile, had lathered his hair with the other shampoo, which was equally aromatic and colorful, a deep, rich purple.

After spending a leisurely hour soaking and scrubbing themselves, the twins decided to rinse off, using the pitchers of water that were at hand for that purpose.  The soapy water cascaded off their bodies.  As the reader has no doubt anticipated, the brilliant crimson and purple did not rinse out so easily.  In fact, it did not rinse out at all.  The two unfortunate Elves, one with crimson hair, the other purple, looked at each other in dismay.

"How did Anomen know which shampoos we would choose?" exclaimed Elladan unhappily.

"He probably didn't.  I'll wager each bottle has been tampered with."

They opened up each container and poured out the contents—green, pink, orange, blue.

"Well," said Elrohir, casting about for something with which to console himself.  "Matters could have been worse.  I think crimson and purple are much preferable to these other colors."

Elladan nodded disconsolately.  "Do you suppose Ada still adheres to his 'no hoods at the table' policy?"

"Undoubtedly," said Elrohir gloomily.

"Then let us go back out on patrol at the earliest opportunity," declared Elladan.

"Aye, brother, but not until we have paid back Anomen!"

"Oh, of course!  Let us fix his appearance so that his own father wouldn't recognize him!"

"Um, Elladan, his own father _doesn't_ recognize him."

"Ah," said Elladan, embarrassed, "I had forgotten that.  Well, let us fix his appearance so that Elrond wouldn't recognize him."

"Agreed.  For now, we may as well dress for dinner.  Ada will have heard by now that we have returned, and if we do not appear in the dining hall, he will surely summon us anyway.  Let us go of our own volition and at least be saved the indignity of being hauled before him like elflings."   

            Elladan nodded.  They would simply have to put on a brave face until they could pay back Anomen and escape once again to patrolling the hinterlands.

            A little while later Elladan and Elrohir boldly strode into the dining hall.  They held themselves erect and looked straight ahead, ignoring the whispers and chuckles.  They approached the head table and bowed to their father, who did not deign to notice their unusual hair colors.

            "I am glad you have returned, my sons."

            "Thank you, Ada," replied the twins.  They took their seats and looked around the table.  Ai! How could it be that Anomen's hair had grown down to his shoulders, long enough to be braided!?

            Said Elf kept his eyes on his plate, only occasionally stealing glances toward Elladan and Elrohir.  He would have to be vigilant to escape their revenge.  A plan began to form in his mind.  On the morrow he would set it in motion.


	2. True Colors

            The next morning Anomen made his way to Elrond's chamber shortly after breakfast.

            "Enter," said Elrond in response to his knock.  "Ah, Anomen, can you not find Estel?"

            "I have already escorted Estel to the library.  He is with Erestor."

            Elrond raised his eyebrows.  "Then why are you not at the library yourself?"

            "I asked Erestor to give me leave to absent myself so that I might speak to you."

            "Very well."  Elrond gestured for Anomen to take a seat.

            "Ada, I would like to go on patrol."

            "What of your responsibilities here?"

            "Surely there is someone else who can mind Estel."

            "It is not only that.  Glorfindel tells me that you are a valuable mentor to the younger Elves, both in terms of your skills and your deportment."

            "Glorfindel said that?"

            Elrond smiled.  "Yes.  Has he not told you something similar?"

            "No, Ada."

            "Some Elves are sparing in their praise.  They feel more than they say."  Elrond hesitated before going on.  "Even parents may be thus sparing in their speech.  Many a father has loved his son but never felt comfortable in saying so."

Anomen was not happy with the direction this conversation was taking.  It seemed to him that Elrond himself was being sparing in his speech, uttering words that were simple on the surface but that hinted at a deeper meaning.

"I am glad to know that Glorfindel approves of my work with the elflings," he said hastily, "but is it not true that Elladan and Elrohir brought back news that bodes ill for Imladris?  Are not Orcs gathering in increasing numbers in the lands surrounding this realm?  If so, then would not my skills be put to better use on patrol?"

Elrond gazed levelly at Anomen.  "There is some truth in what you say.  Very well.  Elladan and Elrohir will soon depart on another sortie.  You may accompany them."

Anomen floundered for words.  If he went on patrol with the twins, he was doomed!

"Uh, um, I had thought to join Thoron's patrol.  And, um, if I did," he added, suddenly inspired, "I would thereby be helping with the training of the novice warriors!"

He looked hopefully at Elrond, but the Elf-lord seemed unimpressed.  Anomen tried another tack.

"The twins, ah, they are dedicated to their especial mission.  I would not wish to distract them with my presence."

Elrond suppressed a smile.  "True, but I sometimes fear that they will become too single-minded in their quest for vengeance.  If you were with them, I am sure there would be some lighter moments to divert them from the dark thoughts that must trouble their minds as they pursue the tormenters of their mother."

Lighter moments, thought Anomen.  Oh, yes, lighter moments for _them._

"Ada," he said desperately, "the twins have a close bond.  I am sure that they would not wish me to accompany them."

"Oh, but I am sure that they _would," said Elrond, who was finding it increasingly difficult to hide his amusement._

Anomen studied Elrond's face.  Although the Elf-lord's eyebrows twitched a trifle, Anomen could tell that he was resolute.

"Well, I walked right into that one," muttered the younger Elf.

"Pardon?"

"Ah, I will walk to my room now and prepare for my departure."

"I am glad to hear it," said Elrond serenely.

Anomen made for the door.  Just before he reached it, Elrond called after.  "Oh, and Anomen."

"Yes, Ada?"

"Your hair has grown back nicely.  Do try to keep it on your head."

Anomen sighed.  "I will do my best, Ada, but as you know, it is not altogether up to me!"  As he spoke, however, an idea dawned upon him, one that would involve bathing, of course.

Anomen hurried to his room and gathered together fresh clothes and other necessaries, including a flask filled with shampoo.  Then he hastened to his third-favorite bathing pool.  He had decided that, as the twins were back in Rivendell, it would be best if he varied his bathing spots in as unpredictable a fashion as possible.  Even so, he looked around carefully before he undressed and stepped into the water.  Once settled, he uncapped the flask and carefully sniffed at its contents.  He poured some into his hands and stared intently at the concoction.  At last, satisfied, he rubbed it into his hair.

A few hours later the Elves of Elrond's household began to assemble for the noon meal.  Elrond and Glorfindel were already at the head table.  Erestor arrived leading Estel by the hand—once they had left the library Erestor had not loosed his hold on the child for even a minute!  Following him were Elladan and Elrohir, who, to Glorfindel's chagrin, had spent the morning on the training fields for old time's sake, with predictable results.

"Where is Anomen?" asked Elrond when all had taken their seats.  At that moment, gasps arose from the lower tables.  Elrond and the others glanced toward the door.  Only Elrond was unsurprised at the sight that met their eyes.  In strolled Anomen, the picture of nonchalance—with blue hair!  He sauntered up to the table and grinned at the dumbfounded twins.

"Elladan, Elrohir, I have decided to cast in my lot with you—share and share alike, one for all, all for one—that sort of thing."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged baffled glances, but Elrond looked pleased.  "Anomen, your words to the Dunlendings bore some truth, for I see before me a fraternity of elite warriors who, in token of their bond, have adopted a most distinctive manner of dressing their hair!  I must say, moreover," he added, "that you have chosen a color that goes very well with your eyes."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other again and arrived at some sort of unspoken consensus.  They burst into laughter.

"Together again, eh, brother?" chortled Elladan.

"Aye, just like old times," laughed Elrohir.  "Mae govannen, Anomen."

Feeling left out, Estel began to clamor.  "I want to color my hair!  I want blue hair, too!"

"Nay," laughed Elrond.  "You are not yet a warrior.  When you are, you may wear your hair any way you please, but for now I am afraid that such a color would be intolerably distracting to your tutor."

Erestor nodded.  "Aye," he muttered.  "His language is already too colorful; perish the thought that his hair should be blue as well."

The remainder of the meal Anomen and the twins chatted amiably together.  They agreed that there was no reason to delay their sortie.  They would pack that night and depart on the morrow.

"Anomen, you will be in charge of bringing the toiletries," said Elrohir teasingly.  "Have a care that you select the shampoos carefully."

"As to that," interjected Elrond, "I have been searching my books and have found a recipe for a wash that may remove the colors from your hair."

"Nay, Ada!"  Elladan shook his head vigorously.  "I wish to remain a member of this 'elite fraternity'."

The other two young Elves echoed him.  Their dyed hair had been transformed into a badge of honor.

Glorfindel did not like the direction things were taking.  He cleared his throat and spoke loudly so that he could be heard even at the furthest table.

"I hope," he declared, "the no other Elves will adopt this peculiar manner of dressing their hair.  I do not wish my novices and warriors to be distracted by concern over whether or not they have chosen the color that best complements their other features.  If any Elves should show up for either training or patrol with their hair colored, I shall skin them."

Several Elves had indeed been whispering their plans for makeovers, but Glorfindel's words were enough to discourage them.  Everyone knew that he had shaved the heads of Anomen and the twins, and no one doubted that the balrog-slayer would carry through on his threat.  Disappointment could be seen on the face of many an Elf.

Disappointment could also be seen on the face of Estel.  First Anomen had abandoned him in the library that morning.  With Anomen gone, Erestor had devoted all his attention to his human pupil, so Estel had had to work much harder than usual.  Now Anomen had lovely colored hair, like Elladan and Elrohir's, but Estel was not going to be allowed to paint _his_ hair.  Worst of all, on the morrow, Anomen would be riding off on an adventure with the twins.  The Elf wouldn't be back for weeks—maybe even months.  Not only would Estel miss out on the adventure, he would have no one to pay attention to him whilst he whiled away the time in Rivendell.  Oh, yes, you may be sure that Estel was disgruntled in the extreme.

Elrond no doubt divined Estel's state of mind and anticipated what might arise from it.  Before he retired for the night, he warned the door warden to keep a sharp lookout lest Estel try to slip out in the morning.

Well before dawn, Anomen arose and dressed.  He bent over Estel, who lay in the truckle bed.  (Anomen had laid down a rule that Estel could no longer crawl into his bed unless the child had bathed.  Since Estel washed no more often than he could help it, that meant that Anomen was able to enjoy most nights Estel-free.)

"Stay well, little brother."

Estel did not stir.  Of course, as Anomen had learned to his sorrow, that did not mean that the child was asleep.  He gently shook Estel's shoulder.

"Estel."

Still no movement.  Perhaps he really was asleep.  Anomen kissed the child's forehead and slipped from the room

Of course, as the reader no doubt expected, Estel sprang from his bed as soon as Anomen had left the room.  He hastily pulled on tunic, leggings, and boots and seized the small-size bow with which he trained each day.  From underneath his bed he pulled a bag filled with some bread and cheese that he had carried away from the table the previous night.  He scurried to the window, climbed over the sill, and grasped hold of the top of the trellis.

Estel was very light, but the trellis had seen much use.  Some of the crossbars were cracked, and the entire frame listed.   Estel ignored the creaking noises as he clambered down.  Ai! On this night the trellis, Anomen's faithful friend, collapsed under the weight, slight as it was, of the human child!  Fortunately, Estel was only a few feet from the ground when this happened.  He found himself sitting in a bush, framed by pieces of the lattice.  Coughing, he untangled himself from the remnants of a trellis that had stood for centuries, nay, millennia.  Fortunately, he was only a little scratched and bruised.  Ruefully, he surveyed the wrecked frame, wondering if this was a situation that would justify the telling of a creative lie upon his return to Rivendell.  No, he decided, Elrond might be vexed, but Estel doubted that the Elf-lord's reaction would be 'life threatening' enough to warrant a fib.  At any rate, he would worry about that later.  For now he needed to catch up with Anomen, who had been heading for the stables.  Seizing his bow and hoisting his bag over his shoulder, the little human trotted off into the pre-dawn darkness. 


	3. Frustration

For those of you who love action and angst, please bear with this one last light-hearted chapter featuring elf-hormones manifesting themselves at awkward moments.  Bloody scene coming up soon. 

_Kitsune__: Well, since Estel wanted his hair colored, I suppose it is not outside the realm of possibility that a future story will feature a green-haired Estel—or perhaps, if he goes enough days without bathing, his hair will turn green from mold!_

_Farflung__: Yep, I can imagine those three Elves millennia in the future still playing tricks on each other.  Once they hit the Undying Lands, that place is gonna _rock_!_

_Jebb__: Thank you for your compliments __re the 'homage' and the dialogue._

_Grumpy:_ Ooh, love irony: "Well isn't it a good thing that someone showed Estel how to climb down a trellis."

_Gwil__: _As you now know from the second chapter, Anomen _did manage to evade the twins' revenge, but as you will see in the chapters that follow this one, that doesn't mean that he evaded __trouble._

_Dragonfly: _I am glad that so far my picture of Estel hasn't violated your sense of what a young Aragorn would have been like.

_Ky__: Go Ky!_

_Karri: _I absolutely promise that after I conclude this chapter I will back up a few centuries and do another story about a much younger Anomen, more as he was when he first arrived in Rivendell.  I swear on the Silmaril of Beren.

Vocabulary

Malthenêl—'Golden Star'

            Anomen sighed with pleasure.  It was so good to be free of the confines of Rivendell.  He had enjoyed working with the elflings and novices—and he knew that it was an honorable occupation—but Anomen was a wanderer at heart.  If he was compelled to stay in one place for too long, he was prone to melancholy.  This did not change the fact that he was deeply attached to the denizens of Imladris—even that most recent of residents, Estel.

Estel!  He was a dear child, but he could wear one out before the noon meal—nay, before breakfast!  Particularly when he had already deprived Anomen of a good night's sleep by crawling into the Elf's bed.  Anomen shuddered.  Even though Estel was not allowed in his bed unless the child had bathed, the little human _still managed to be stinky.  Plus, he would not stay still.  Either his mouth was working, or he was kicking and thrashing about.  No, it was definitely no fun sharing a bed with Estel.  Now, one of those elf-maidens perhaps…._

"Aaargh, what am I thinking!?" Anomen shouted aloud.  Up ahead, Elladan and Elrohir drew their horses to a halt and twisted about to look back at him.

"Are you alright, Anomen?" asked Elladan.

"No!  I mean, yes!  I mean, it is nothing of importance!"

"You cried aloud because of nothing of importance?" said Elrohir skeptically.

"Well," admitted Anomen, "sometimes I have the oddest thoughts."

"Ah," said Elladan shrewdly, "would these thoughts have anything to do with elf-maidens?"

 Amazed, Anomen stared at him.  "Why, uh, yes, they do have something to do with elf-maidens!  I think of them at the strangest times and, ah, in the strangest manner.  I would rather," he hastily added, "not go into detail."

The twins nodded with understanding.

"I have been thinking," confessed Elrohir, "that when we return to Rivendell, I might ask Glorfindel's niece, Malthenêl, if she would like to go riding with me."

"Riding?" said Elladan.

"Yes, riding—on a horse!  On separate horses!"

"As she is Glorfindel's niece," warned Anomen, "you'd best be sure that it's a ride on separate horses!"

"Oh, I will!  I will!"

"Of course," said Elladan, "our parents couldn't always have ridden on separate horses—else we wouldn't be here."

"Elladan!" protested Elrohir and Anomen simultaneously.

"Well, it's true," said Elladan stubbornly.  "You know perfectly well where baby elflings come from!—and not from tree crotches, neither, no matter what our old nursemaid said."

"Oh, yes," scoffed Elrohir, "I've known for several centuries, ever since I caught Glorfindel in the garden with—um, ever since I had a long talk with Glorfindel."

"You never mentioned this talk to me," complained Elladan.

"Uh, well, Glorfindel was, ah, a little irate, and after he explained matters, he said that, if I ever wanted any little elflings of my own, I should just keep the thing—uh, things—to myself.  Looked very fierce when he said that, and he was fingering his blade."

"You do mean his knife, I hope," said Elladan.

"Of course," said Elrohir indignantly.  "Honestly!"

"Have you ever wondered where Istari come from?" said Anomen thoughtfully.  "Do they have mothers and fathers?  Because, if they do, then Mithrandir must have—"

"Anomen!" objected Elladan and Elrohir.

"Well, you don't suppose _he sprang from a tree crotch, do you!?"_

"But I have never seen a female wizard?  Have you?" challenged Elladan.

"No, but the Istari came from the over the sea, from the Undying Lands to the west.  Perhaps the female wizards remained behind."

"True," said Elrohir.  "The next time Mithrandir takes a bath—"

"Elrohir," yelped Elladan, "you may have gotten away from Glorfindel, but I am certain that you will _indeed never have any elflings of your own if _Mithrandir_ were to catch you at your game!  The spell he would cast on you, ugh, I don't want to think of it!"  Elladan blanched._

Elrohir contemplated the loss or bizarre transformation of certain body parts and came to the reluctant conclusion that his brother was right.  It would be too risky to pry into Mithrandir's private parts—uh, life.

"Very well," he sighed.  "At any event, just learning about elf-maiden anatomy will probably keep us occupied for a century or so."  He brightened.  "Say, the pool near the lower waterfall, don't the elf-maidens congregate there?"

"Yes?" said Elladan cautiously.

"Practiced scouts such as we are, surely the three of us could creep near without being caught."

"Oh, I don't know about that," warned Anomen.  "Did you know that the matron of elf-maidens is sister to the head cook?"

"Sister to the head cook!"

"Aye, and if she is similarly talented, I doubt we could escape her surveillance—or the ensuing punishment.  We'll lose more than our hair!"

Elrohir groaned.  "Oh, this is going to be _such a long century."_

His two companions nodded sympathetically.  Morosely, they urged their horses onward.

Whilst this conversation was taking place, their much younger foster-brother was suffering from no such complicated thoughts and emotions.  His was a straightforward task: to stay on the trail of Anomen and the twins.  Since the Elves were on horseback, they were not hard to track.  Moreover, they were traveling slowly, so as not to miss any Orc or other signs.  Even though Estel was on foot, he did not fear being unable to keep up with them.

He did have one concern.  He had packed cheese and bread, but, as he had the appetite of a vigorous and growing boy, he had eaten his way through these provisions before noon that very day.  He picked any berries that he knew to be edible, but, still, as the sun drew near to the western horizon, he was fair starving.  He was also a little troubled by thirst.  He had not thought to bring a water flask.  He drank at every stream he came to, but sometimes these water sources were inconveniently far apart.  He resolved to be better prepared next time.  For now, he turned all his energy to solving his current problem.

As dusk drew near, the three Elves picked out a good camping spot, one both sheltered and near water, and built a fire.  Elladan and Anomen had each bagged a squirrel as they rode, and Elrohir set about preparing a meal.  Soon, strips of squirrel meat were sizzling over the fire, and the savory odor wafted through the forest.  Estel left off searching for hoof prints and began to follow his nose.

Before too long, he was crouched in the undergrowth, licking his lips as he watched the Elves enjoying a leisurely meal.  Not only did they have squirrel meat, but they had bread, fruit, and cheese.  A water flask lay near each Elf.

Anomen, partly reclining on one elbow, had just finished one strip of meat and sat up to reach for another.  The piece that he had had his eye on was gone.  Elladan or Elrohir must have gotten that one.  Well, he would just have to wait for another one to cook.  He turned back to eat the wedge of cheese he had just sliced from the wheel.  Where had he laid it?  He searched about and then looked suspiciously over at Elrohir and Elladan.  But Elladan was enjoying an apple, and Elrohir was eating a slice of bread.  No doubt he had overlooked the cheese in the dark.  He cut another slice and laid it on top of a piece of bread.  Then he turned back to check the doneness of the meat.  No meat hung above the fire.  Anomen wrinkled his forehead in bewilderment.  He laid two more strips of meat on the spit above the fire and turned to pick up his bread and cheese.  Gone!

"Um, Elladan, Elrohir, you have forgiven me for dying your hair, haven't you?"

"Yes, of course, Anomen," replied Elrohir.

"We're even now," added Elladan.

"So you wouldn't feel the need to play any tricks on me tonight, would you?"

"Oh, no," Elrohir assured him.  "As long as we are on this sortie together, we won't try anything.  It is true," he continued, "that I cannot guarantee that we will _never play another trick on you, but you need have no fear for the time being."_

Anomen rubbed his hand over his face and turned back to the fire.  He half expected that the meat would have once again vanished, but the two strips, now cooked, still hung over the fire.  Perhaps the other pieces had fallen into the fire, and mayhap a small, inconspicuous animal had dragged off the bread and cheese.  Hungrily, Anomen devoured the two strips of meat that were left to him.

"Anomen," scolded Elladan, "I know we are on patrol, but that is no reason to bolt your food so!  We are Elves, not Dwarves!"

"My pardon, Elladan," said a chastened Anomen, who was not the one who typically had to be chided for his table manners.  He looked about for his water flask.  Where had he laid it?  After searching fruitlessly for several minutes, he asked Elrohir if he might sip from his flask.

"Have you mislaid your flask?"

"Yes," admitted Anomen, "I seem to have done so."

Elrohir grinned.  "Those elf-maidens _have distracted you!  Very well, here's my flask.  When you said 'share and share alike', I had no idea that you meant to be so literal!"_

After drinking a little from the flask, Anomen arose and went behind a tree briefly.  When he returned, he stooped over the pile of bedrolls that the three elves had cast to one side as they made camp.  There was Elrohir's roll, and there was Elladan's, but where was his?  After searching for awhile, Anomen resigned himself to the thought that he would have to sleep rolled up in his cloak.  He decided not to mention anything to Elladan and Elrohir.  Even if either twin were carrying a spare blanket, it would not be worth the gibes he would have to endure.  Instead, he offered to take the first watch, hoping thereby that his companions would not notice that he had no bedroll.  Tomorrow, he resolved, he would watch his possessions with the avidity of a Dwarf!

A little ways from the camp, a very satisfied Estel was rolling himself up in Anomen's blankets.  He had eaten two strips of meat and had set aside two pieces of cheese and one slice of bread for breakfast.  He had, moreover, secured a water flask.  Oh, yes, he had done very well for himself, and he looked forward with great anticipation to the adventures that the morrow would bring.


	4. Ambush

_Farflung__: Ai! It will be someone other than Anomen who at last catches Estel!_

_Karri:  _Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—Anomen does not catch on.  By the way, you were no more confused than Anomen over the matter of his disappearing supper, flask, and bedroll!

_Dragonfly: _Maybe in the future I will compose a story that stretches Estel's tracking and hiding ability to the limit.  In this tale, however, Estel's tracking will come to an abrupt halt.

            Shortly after Estel had climbed—or fallen—from his room, Glorfindel came strolling into the garden.  Balrog-slayer though he was, Glorfindel was in fact a gentle soul who liked nothing better than to spend his spare moments enjoying the beauty of the verdant walkways that wended through the grounds of Rivendell.  Of course, this predilection of his explains why in the past he had so often been the first to realize that Anomen and the twins had absconded via the trellis.

            Today he saw with great satisfaction that said trellis lay in a jumbled heap.  He had been begging Elrond for centuries to take down that Mordor-cursed ladder.  Now age and use had done the job at last.  He thought with triumph of the expression that would cross Elrond's face when the elf-lord heard of its demise.  Then he suddenly realized that perhaps he ought not to tell Elrond.  It had been Celebrían who had supervised the erection of the various trellises.  Glorfindel suspected that this was the reason Elrond hesitated to order the removal of any of them.

            "I will simply instruct the gardeners to construct a new trellis, but to the left or right of the old one so that it cannot be reached from that window.  For good measure, I will ask them not to build it quite so high.  I need not trouble Elrond over this matter."

Glorfindel stopped at the shed of the Head Gardener before entering the Hall for breakfast.  He thus did not arrive at the head table in time to overhear a conversation between Elrond and the Door Warden, who had entered to report on the night's comings and goings.  Elrond noticed that Estel was not at the table.

"Has the human child left the Hall?" he asked the Door Warden.

"No, my Lord.  The only one who passed the door was a messenger from Lothlórien bearing a letter from the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.  He has been assigned a guest room and awaits your reply."

The Door Warden bowed slightly and proffered a scroll to the elf-lord.  Pleased, Elrond accepted it.  No doubt it would contain news of Arwen.

"Well," said Elrond, preoccupied with thoughts of his daughter, "Estel must be hiding somewhere within the Hall, sulking no doubt.  Erestor, please see to it."

With that Elrond arose and hastened to his chamber to peruse his letter.  Behind him he left a very unhappy Erestor.

"It will take hours for me to find that urchin, by which time it will be too late for lessons anyway.  I shall simply go to the library and pursue my own studies.  Estel will surface eventually, no doubt when he becomes hungry."

Erestor knew that, given Estel's penchant for purloining bread and cheese, not to mention pastries, it might be awhile before the child was indeed driven out of hiding.  Nevertheless, it seemed to Erestor that he could waste his time on a fruitless search for the imp, or he could spend his time profitably immersed in one of his beloved tomes.   He arose and followed Elrond from the room.

Glorfindel was disappointed when he arrived at the breakfast table to find it deserted.  He did not wish to tell Elrond about the trellis, but he had been intending to pass on the reports of Berenmaethor's patrol, which had returned the previous evening.  He grabbed a hasty bite and hurried to Elrond's chamber, where he found the elf-lord composing a reply to the letter he had just received.  He did not wish to put it aside but promised Glorfindel that he would lunch with him privately so that he would have his full attention.  Satisfied, Glorfindel proceeded to the training fields to supervise an archery class.

It was evening before all three elf-lords gathered in the same room at the same time. As they took their places at the head table, Elrond looked about and realized that Estel was once again missing.

"Erestor, did you not find Estel?"

Erestor had to confess that he had not in fact searched for the urchin.

"I did not think it likely that I would find him, so I did not try."

Glorfindel cleared his throat.  "Elrond, the trellis fell down sometime during the night."

"Yes, yes," said Elrond dismissively, his mind now on Estel.

"Ah, Elrond," Glorfindel continued doggedly, "mayhap something, or someone, caused the trellis to fall.  I don't believe I have mentioned to you that one night Anomen showed Estel how to climb out the window."

Elrond looked at him.  "Oh," he said faintly.  Then he sighed.

"Erestor, you are, as ever, in charge here.  Glorfindel—"

"I will, of course, assemble a patrol, Elrond."

"Thank you.  Oh, and Erestor," he added turning to his other friend, "please tell the Head Gardener that it will not be necessary to replace the—"

"That has already been seen to," Glorfindel interrupted hastily.

"Oh, indeed," said Elrond, raising his eyebrows quizzically.

"Your pardon, Elrond.  It did not seem worth troubling you—at the time."

Elrond nodded.  "Think nothing further of it, mellon-nîn."

            The child whose absence had just been noticed, had, like Glorfindel, been up well before dawn that morning.  The night had not proven to be particularly cold, so he decided that he didn't wish to take the trouble of lugging Anomen's blanket.  After carefully rerolling and retying it, he tossed it into the edge of the campsite.  Shortly thereafter, Elladan arose and went to step briefly behind a tree.  As he did so, he stumbled over Anomen's bedroll.  He kicked it toward his friend.

            "Anomen, why did you sleep wrapped up in your cloak last night when you have a perfectly good bedroll?"

            "Um," said Anomen, thinking quickly, "I am trying to toughen myself.  Some day we may face circumstances that will require us to do without all but the absolute necessities.  I am training myself against that day."

            "Oh," teased Elrohir, "and is that why you neglected to carry a water flask?  Are you trying to inure yourself to thirst?  Well, if that is the case, you won't be wanting to share my flask anymore, will you?"

            Anomen grinned sheepishly.  "Alright!  I admit it!  I couldn't find my bedroll last night."

            Elladan and Elrohir laughed.

            "Well, you may keep the flask," offered Elrohir generously.  "Elladan and I can share."

            "Thank you, Elrohir."

            The previous day, they had seen no Orc signs.  Today, however, after about two hours travel, they found the unmistakable tracks of the repulsive creatures.  They dismounted and, leaving their horses to browse in a clearing, they began to travel even more slowly than before.

            "There are many of them," said Anomen somberly after some time.  "And the trees warn that this is not the only band in the forest."

            "Where are the other bands?" asked Elladan anxiously.

            "That's the trouble.  They are on at least three sides—to the south, the east, and the west.  The trees can give us no warning more specific than that, for the Orcs have crept in on nearly every side."

            "We had best retreat before we are cut off," said Elrohir.  "Ada and Glorfindel will want to be informed at once."

            Anomen and Elladan nodded.  This was good advice, worthy of a mature leader of Elves.  There was nothing to be gained in advancing needlessly against such superior numbers.

            Unfortunately, these enemy marauders were superior to the usual Orc band in more than numbers.  They were led by half-goblins, bred for intelligence.  The trap was soon sprung, for the half-goblins quickly sent some of the Orcs to the north.  Escape by land would now be difficult, perhaps impossible.

            "Look," whispered Anomen, gesturing to the north.

            "Aye, I see them," answered Elrohir softly.

            "Should we loose our arrows?" asked Elladan.

            "Nay, 'twill only bring more down upon us," said Elrohir.  "We must try to evade detection.  Pull up your hoods!  Our hair will be the death of us!"

            In truth, it was too late to cover up their hair.  A half-goblin spy had spotted them almost as soon as they had departed the valley of Rivendell.  The general word had gone round that any Elf with unusual hair was to be captured forthwith and that a great reward would be forthcoming to whomever brought in the exotic Elf.  Here were _three_ Elves with unusual hair.  The half-goblin spy hastily carried word back to his commander, and all Orcs and half-goblins within reach had been set the task of entrapping the Elves.  Unbeknownst to them, in the space of a day Elrohir, Elladan, and Anomen had been transformed from hunters to hunted.

            Also unbeknownst to them, half-goblins had swarmed into the trees about them.  In the experience of Anomen and the twins, Orcs did not climb.  True, in some realms it was reported that Orcs did creep up rocks and into trees, but none had been known to do so in the lands around Imladris.   But these half-goblins were both cleverer and more agile than the Orcs in these parts.  Looking down upon the Elves at this very minute were scores of half-goblins, and these creatures were about to make their presence known.

            Anomen ducked as he heard the whir of an arrow.  The projectile embedded itself in the soil at his feet.  From the angle, Anomen could tell that the arrow had been shot from above.  Astonished, he looked up and was met with the leering face of a half-goblin.

            "Ye pointy-ears had best yield," said the half-goblin in crude but recognizable Common Speech.

            Surrendering, the Elves knew, was out of the question.  Better to die quickly in battle than to suffer torment at the hands and for the pleasure of Orcs.  Anomen replied by shooting the half-goblin between the eyes.  Elladan and Elrohir followed suit, loosing arrows rapidly but accurately.  But no matter how many arrows the Elves shot off, more Orcs and half-goblins sprang into view.  Oddly, no further arrows were shot by their enemies.

            "They mean to take us alive," gasped Elladan.

            "Aye," said Elrohir grimly, "but we will _make them fight."_

            Their arrows exhausted, they drew their swords.  Fighting back to back they parried the half-hearted blows of their enemies, severing many a limb in the process.  But for every maimed foe, another stepped into the breach.  At last one Orc managed to knock aside Elladan's sword.  In a trice a half-goblin had tackled him around the knees and brought him down.  With Elladan out of the fight, Elrohir and Anomen were that much more vulnerable.  Anomen's sword was shortly wrested from his hand when he ran it through a half-goblin who promptly sprang back, bearing away the sword with him.  Anomen whipped out his two knives, but one of them was almost immediately knocked from his grasp by a mighty blow from an Orc scimitar.  He thrust the other through the hand of an Orc, who, laughing closed his hand about the blade.  With his free hand, the Orc made a fist and brought it down upon Anomen's head.  The last thing he saw was Elrohir, still brandishing his sword but completely surrounded by hooting and jeering Orcs and half-goblins.  


	5. Elrond Unleashed

Vocabulary

"Imladris!  Noro lim, mellon-nîn! Yrch!  Yrch!"—'Rivendell!  Ride quickly, my friend!  Orcs!  Orcs!'

"Anomen!  Saes!  Saes!  Anomen!  Noro lim!"—'Anomen! Please! Please! Anomen!  Ride quickly!'

            The half-goblins were cleverer than Orcs, but they were still not as clever as Elves—or as humans.  In fact, they were scarcely as clever as one small human child.  So intent were they on the Elves in the center of their trap, they assigned no scouts to look for any foes that might approach from outside their perimeter.  Thus they had their backs to Estel as he crept up to the scene of the battle.

            Elrohir had at last been born down by sheer weight of numbers and lay bound and gagged next to Elladan, who was similarly trussed.  Anomen was still unconscious and had not yet been bound, for the half-goblins were busily trying to revive him.  Their concern for his health of course resulted not from tenderheartedness on their part but from their eagerness to keep him alive long enough to collect the reward.

            While the half-goblins were hovering over their captive, the Orcs, maimed and unmaimed alike, were greedily gathering up severed limbs and kindling cooking fires.  Before too long Estel found himself faint and sick at the sight of a maimed Orc gnawing at a hand that may very well once have been his own!  He struggled to master his stomach and emotions, however, for he had to _do something__.  Anomen had at last come around and, once the half-goblins were sure that he was not seriously injured, he had been bound and gagged like the other two Elves.  Clearly only Estel was free to act.  But to act how?_

            No doubt he could fell an Orc or two with rocks, as he had done before, but to what end?  He couldn't bring them all down that way.  He'd only be captured or killed for his pains.  His little bow would be similarly useless.  Could he creep into the camp and somehow contrive to free Anomen and the twins?  After all, he'd managed to steal food, flask, and blanket the previous night.  Yes, but those objects had lain close to his hiding place.  To reach his friends, he would have to cross into the center of a camp filled with carousing Orcs and half-goblins.  Estel had a good opinion of himself, but even he could see that he had little chance of success.  Very well, then, the only thing to be done was to go for help.

            Estel quietly arose and made quickly for the horses, which fortunately were also outside the enemy perimeter.  They had remained placidly browsing in the clearing where the Elves had left them.  Anomen's horse stood by a tree, which Estel climbed in order to mount the steed.  Once atop the horse, Estel took hold of the mane with both his fists.  He pounded his heels against the horse's flanks to stir the stallion into action.  The horse ignored him.  Crunch.  Crunch.  Chomp.  Chomp.  The horse continued to nibble the grass.

            "Take me home," cried Estel, kicking away in frustration.  "Take me to Rivendell!"

            The horse still ignored him.  Estel tried to remember how it was that Anomen made the horse respond, for Elven riders do not guide their horses in the way that humans do.

            "Ah, I know," Estel cried at last.  "Imladris!  Noro lim, mellon-nîn! Yrch!  Yrch!"

            The horse sprang forward, and it was a good thing that Estel was clutching the mane with both fists.  Understanding now the words and the reason for the urgency in the child's voice, the stallion galloped northward, making his unerring way toward Rivendell.

            Elrond, Glorfindel, and the patrol was riding southward with equal speed.  They knew that Anomen and the twins had gone in search of Orcs and that Estel was therefore likely to once again encounter those fell creatures.  This they meant to prevent.  It never occurred to them that Elladan, Elrohir, and Anomen would be the ones in need of rescue.  Their first inkling that this might be the case was the sight of a horse, still distant, that appeared to be riderless.

            "Glorfindel," said Elrond, "your vision is by far the keenest—do you recognize that horse?"

            "Aye," replied Glorfindel grimly.  "That is Anomen's horse, and he is not one to fall from his steed without reason!"

            They urged their mounts onward even faster, and their steeds complied as best they could.  Occasionally the unevenness of the terrain blocked their view of the lone horse, and it seemed long before they were near enough to hail the stallion.

            To their shock, when they did so, they were answered by the high-pitched voice of a child.

            "Mae govannen," cried Estel in his best elvish.

            Elrond broke into one of his very rare grins.  "Ah, you scamp, I see you have been found out, and Anomen and the twins have sent you packing on Anomen's horse!"

            Oh, no Elrond, it's not that at all.  You see—"

            "So you stole that horse, eh?" glowered Glorfindel.

            "Well, yes, but—"

            "Estel," said Elrond gently but firmly, "a warrior does not make excuses."

            "Yrch!  Yrch!  Yrch!" screeched Estel.  It had worked with an elven horse; mayhap it would work with the Elves themselves.

            Dumbfounded, the warriors stared at the child.

            "Are you saying," said Elrond slowly—

            "Yes! Yes! The Orcs have Elladan and Elrohir and Anomen!  And the nasty creatures are not hungry at the moment, but you'd better come quick!"

            "Baramagor," ordered Elrond, "escort Estel back to Rivendell."

            "No!" shouted Estel.  "There-are-too-many-Orcs!  You will need every warrior!"

            Elrond made a quick decision.  He spoke to Anomen's horse in elvish, and the stallion immediately broke into a gallop heading northward once more.  Elrond would have to trust that the horse would carry Estel to safety, and, as all signs pointed to their foes being to the south, he had good reason to put his faith in the horse.

            You, reader, are no doubt thinking that Elrond was entitled to rely upon the horse but that he should not have left Estel out of his calculations.  And indeed, as soon as they were out of sight of the warriors, Estel cried, "Anomen!  Saes!  Saes!  Anomen!  Noro lim!"

            Enthusiastically, the horse wheeled about and charged southward.  No doubt he was eager to be reunited with Anomen so that he might rid himself of the screeching creature that clung to his mane so tightly.  Be that as it may, the stallion was now galloping southward as rapidly as he had been galloping northward, with Estel unnecessarily urging him onward.

            At last Estel arrived at the clearing where Anomen and the twins had left their horses.  Elladan and Elrohir's stallions had now been joined by the patrol's steeds, and Estel decided it was time for him to dismount as well.  He slid off the horse, and, his little bow strung tight, he slipped off in pursuit of Elrond and the others.

            Estel heard them before he saw them.  The Elves had broken into two bands, one taking a position to the west of the Orc camp, the other to the east.  Upon an agreed-upon signal—a bird call—they had stormed into the camp from either side.  Baramagor had been assigned to sprint without delay to the side of the captives, lest the Orcs, once they had recovered their wits, should slay them.  He gutted the slack-jawed Orc who stood guard over the prisoners and immediately cut Anomen's bonds.  Seizing a knife, Anomen likewise freed Elrohir while Baramagor did the same for Elladan.  At once the released prisoners joined the fray.  In the confusion, they could not find their own weapons, which their captors had cast aside, but they made do with scimitars dropped by slain or wounded Orcs.  The three, plus Baramagor, formed into the traditional circle, once more fighting back to back, but this time not needing to fend off an entire Orc army.

Throughout the camp bands of Elves were fighting in this fashion, frustrating the efforts of the Orcs who had been able to overwhelm three Elves through brute force but lacked the finesse to defeat a larger number of elven warriors.  Still, the Elves were hard put to maintain the advantage.  The Orcs were being commanded by half-goblins, and those creatures were not about to let their prizes slip away without a fierce struggle.  Somehow they had divined that Elrond was the leader of the Elves, and they concentrated their efforts on the band where Elrond, back to back with Glorfindel and two other Elves, was parrying the thrusts of a particularly enormous Orc.  Estel's attention, too, was drawn to Elrond.  He could see that the elven-lord, skilled as he was, was no match in strength for the beast.  He nocked an arrow and drew back the string of his little bow.  The projectile that strung the Orc was not driven with enough force to do much damage, but the Orc was distracted, and Elrond used that to his advantage, his sword slipping under the Orcs guard and slicing across its belly.  The Orc fell, tripping on his own entrails.  Another Orc, urged on by a half-goblin, filled his position.  Estel aimed for that one and had the satisfaction of seeing it start and look about, with predictably fatal results.  Again and again he loosed his shafts.

Ai! One of the half-goblins had realized that these little arrows were coming from the perimeter of the camp.  He scuttled aside into the woods and came up from behind to the spot from which he judged the archer was firing.  Estel, intent on aiding Elrond, was unaware of his danger until he was dangling in the air, his throat gripped by the half-goblin.

"'Ere, wot's this?—a little man-brat!  I'll show yeh how we play with man-brats!"  With that, the half-goblin drop-kicked Estel into the middle of the camp, where the fighting was at its fiercest.

A horrified Elrond had seen the half-goblin reach into a bush and pull up Estel by the neck.  To his even greater horror, if that were at all possible, he had seen the fell creature drop-kick the child into the maelstrom of struggling Orc and Elf.

Elrond had fought in the Battle of the Last Alliance, but Gil-galad had been grooming him as a leader, not a warrior.  Thus the Peredhil had always been urged to think in broad, strategic terms.  He had also been encouraged to be self-effacing, to put the needs of the many ahead of the needs of the few—or the one.  As Gil-galad had hoped, this training had born fruit.  Throughout the many centuries that had followed Gil-galad's death, Elrond had ever been the one who gave counsel and advice, the one who mediated between factions and nourished negotiations.  Invariably the good leader, Elrond always worked dutifully for the benefit of his people and sought neither power nor reward for himself.  No matter what he was forced to confront or to suffer, his needs and personal desires he always placed last.

 When the Orcs had carried off and tormented Celebrían, even then Elrond had not set aside the centuries of training and practice.  He remained calm.  He never raged, never gave vent to his sorrow, not even when Celebrían at last departed for the Undying Lands.  Imladris had to be sustained, no matter the cost to him.

But when Elrond saw the half-goblin drop-kick the little human into the midst of the battle, for a brief while it was as if those centuries of restraint had never existed.  The elf-lord let out a roar that affrighted even Glorfindel.  With a mighty swing he decapitated the Orc who stood before him, and then he charged straight for the spot where Estel had disappeared into the surge of bodies.  Hacking with abandon, Elrond might have been mistaken for Orc himself, leaving a trail of severed arms and heads in his wake.  One half-goblin he hewed apart at the waist, the legs remaining upright for a fraction of a second after the trunk had toppled to the ground.

As Elrond was slashing his way toward the spot where he had last seen Estel, that child was himself doing his best to confound his enemies.  He had landed at the feet of an Orc that, momentarily taken aback, stared stupidly at him for the seconds that it took for the little human to catch his breath.  By the time the Orc raised his scimitar, Estel had strength and wit enough to scramble forward, between the legs of his foe.  The Orc, unable to check his swing, thrust his weapon in the dirt. Before the Orc could wrest his scimitar free, he was cut down by an alert elven warrior.  Continuing to dodge in this fashion, Estel sowed chaos amongst the Orcs.  He was small and fast-moving, not an ideal target for the doltish and lumbering Orcs.  More than once an Orc swinging at Estel inadvertently slashed one of his companions when the little human sprang aside to avoid the blow.  Before too long, the half-goblins had realized that this little warrior was a serious threat, and they began to pursue the annoying human.  Of course, they were then no longer able to command the Orcs.  Now leaderless, those creatures became even less effective than before and fell inexorably to the swords of their elven foes.

Once the half-goblins had begun to chase Estel, things might have gone ill for the child, but the battlefield was now open enough for Anomen to spot his foster-brother.  Anomen quickly caught the attention of his friends, and they charged as a group toward the little human.  Once they reached him, Anomen reached down and pulled the child into the center of their band.  Once ringed by Elves, Estel for once was all too happy to stay put.  He had had as much of battle as he could stomach.  Anomen and his companions assumed a purely defensive posture, allowing the other Elves to mop up the last of the Orcs and half-goblins.

The mêlée over, Elrond ripped his sword from the belly of his last opponent and frantically scanned the battlefield for any sign of Estel.  He did not see him at first, and he felt the bile rise to his throat.  But then Anomen's band at last relaxed discipline, the Elves stepping away from one another and looking about to ascertain the fate of the other elven warriors.  There in the midst of that small group stood the little human.  Elrond hastened toward him.  He did not realize, however, that he was so splattered with Orc blood that he looked as if he were wearing a mask of black.  He reached the child and stooped over him.  Estel, looking up at the blood-streaked apparition, screamed in terror.  Chastened, Elrond stepped back.  He looked about at his companions.  Of all the Elves, Anomen, predictably enough, was the cleanest.  One would scarcely guess that he had been in battle.  Elrond gestured toward Estel.

"Anomen, would you please take charge of Estel?"

"Yes, Ada.  Oh, and Ada."

"Yes, ion-nîn."

"The nearest stream is off to the northeast about a quarter mile from here."

Elrond felt the stirrings of a smile, although his expression did not change.  Of course Anomen would know the location of the nearest place suitable for bathing.

"Thank you, Anomen, but I must first attend to matters here."  He had to take stock of his warriors before he saw to his own needs.  The centuries of restraint had returned as quickly as they had fled.


	6. The Price Of Revenge

_Jebb__: Your wish is my command.  Here is another chapter, and there will be one more chapter in this story.  Then I'll start a new one._

_FarFlung__: You are of course correct in saying that if Estel hadn't run off then Anomen and the twins "would have been in deep trouble."  This fact is the only thing that is going to save the little human from being 'skinned' by Glorfindel—that and the fact that he is really too little to be of much use at scouring dishes or polishing shields!  About the Goblins: left on their own, they would be as stupid as Orcs, but these are half-goblins.  They've been bred with Men.  Remember the character in Bree (book version) who had Goblin features?_

_Grumpy: _Yep, that's Estel: takes "a battle with Orcs to get him to stay in one place"!  I've got an idea for a story that will finally cure him of his illicit roaming.  (It will involve Estel's teeth.)

_Karri: _At the moment I am sure that Elrond would agree with you that Estel is more trouble than the twins and Anomen combined.  However, give me a few more days, and I'm sure I can cook up an adventure for those three that will change your minds!

_Ky_: _I love that phrase of yours: Anomen's "personal dirt-shield."  O.K. if I slip it into a story?_

_MoroTheWolfGod__: Aha!  I've got you figured!  You like it best when a chapter is chock full of angst and action!  Ai! You're going to have to put up with some 'cuteness' in the chapter after this one, but I'm sketching out another story that will be satisfyingly gory, I think._

_Dragonfly: _Yes, Estel inadvertently saves the day—which is the only thing that will be standing between him and Elrond and Glorfindel's wrath!

The battle over, Elrond immediately set about checking on the welfare of his companions.  To his relief, he soon saw that injuries were few, and those minor.  He was glad not only for the sake of his warriors but because, had an Elf died, his words to Estel would have to be even harsher than they were going to be.  But those words would have to wait.  Once he had checked on his companions, his next responsibility was to see that the surviving Orcs and half-goblins were put to death as painlessly as possible.  He gave the order and surveyed the scene as scouts went methodically from fallen foe to fallen foe, slaying any who survived with a quick thrust to the throat.  Suddenly Elrond realized that Baramagor was stooping over the half-goblin who had so brutally flung Estel into the midst of the battle. 

"Wait," commanded Elrond.  He strode over to the half-goblin and stared down upon him with a stony face.  "Do you truly deserve a clean death?" he said aloud.

"You are asking the wrong question," said a gentle voice.  "Rather you should ask what it is that you deserve."

With a start, Elrond realized that Glorfindel had quietly approached and now stood by his side.

"What do you mean?" asked Elrond, bewildered for once.

"Never have we asked whether the Orcs we dispatch deserve to die painlessly.  For it is not their welfare for which we are concerned.  No, rather we kill cleanly out of concern for ourselves."

"Concern for ourselves?"  Elrond thought he understood Glorfindel's meaning, but just this time he wished to be reassured by hearing someone other than himself rehearse the argument.

"Yes," said Glorfindel.  "Elves do not wish to be degraded into beings who relish the sufferings of others.  We do not wish to become creatures like these Orcs.  We may feel rage at the height of battle.  We may feel fear.  These emotions are not only just but necessary.  Today these emotions helped you to slash your way through your enemies.  They may have turned the tide of battle.  But do you wish these same feelings to rule your life after the battle has ended?  They will cut you deeper than any sword."

Elrond pondered.  Yes, he had felt rage and fear when he had seen Estel hurled into the mêlée, and those emotions had indeed carried him through a host of foes.  But for all his rage and fear, in the end it had not been hate for Orcs that had motivated him.  No, it had been love for Estel.  It was not, he understood now, always necessary to suppress his strong feelings.  But it was imperative that he act upon them in an appropriate manner, at the appropriate time.  He had been right to decapitate and disembowel Orcs in his desperate attempt to rescue his fosterling.  But now he had no excuse to act so.  He had no need—neither, he realized, did he in fact have the desire.  For what he felt now was neither rage nor fear but sorrow mingled with relief.

Elrond conceded to himself that if he tormented the half-goblin that lay dying before him, it would not be in order to save a companion or a kinsman.  It would be purely to take delight in the creature's suffering.  And in order to do so, he would have to rekindle his own hate and fear without any good object in mind.  He would have to summon up the emotions that completely governed these fell creatures all the hours of their days and all the days of their lives.  Elrond shook his head.  Revenge was not worth it, the price being so high.

Elrond stooped down over the half-goblin.  "I do this for myself, not for you," he said dispassionately.  With one quick movement the elf-lord allowed the creature as easy a passing as possible.  Then he exhaled deeply and stood silent for a little.  When at last he spoke, it was with ruefulness.  "This day, mellon-nîn, I feel as I have been little more than an elfling," he said."

"You did not fight like an elfling," observed Glorfindel.  "Not many Elves can cut an Orc through at the waist.  I myself have done that no more than three times that I can recall.

Elrond looked down at his blood-streaked hands and then raised one to his equally gory face.  His skin was beginning to feel tight as the blood dried upon it.

"I think I will now indulge myself in a dip in the stream that Anomen says is nearby."

"Do not go alone," warned Glorfindel.  It may be that there are still some Orcs skulking about.  And those half-goblins are very clever—it wouldn't surprise me if one or two escaped during the battle."

Elrond nodded.  "I will ask Anomen and the twins to join me."

"Yes, Elrohir and Elladan certainly look as if they could use a bath."  Glorfindel laughed as he added, "But, as usual, Anomen does not appear to need one."

"Oh," said Elrond, laughing as well, "that won't stop him from bathing anyway."

"You are right, of course," agreed Glorfindel.  "Estel can't be made to bathe, but Anomen cannot be stopped from doing so!  Thranduil must have been a stickler for cleanliness."

"What does Thranduil have to do with it?" asked Elrond, instantly cautious.

"Oh, ah, well, as Thranduil is the king of Mirkwood, and as Anomen grew up in Mirkwood, no doubt he would have been influenced by practices at the Great Hall.  Subjects generally emulate their rulers, as I am sure you know!"

Elrond nodded, and a look of understanding passed between the two elf-lords.  Glorfindel had his ideas as to why Elrond continued to harbor Anomen, but he was not about to press his friend on the matter.  Partly, he was sure, Elrond was genuinely concerned that Anomen would be ill-served by being forced back before he was quite ready to return.  Glorfindel sometimes also wondered whether Elrond had some strategic goals in mind.  By raising Anomen in Rivendell, Elrond was forging loyalty and affection in the young Elf.  That would make for good relations between Mirkwood and Imladris once Thranduil decided to depart for the Undying Lands and Anomen ascended to the throne.  Glorfindel also occasionally wondered whether Elrond had in mind a match between Anomen and Arwen.  No stronger link could be forged between the two realms.  He always dismissed that idea from his mind, however.  Elrond loved Arwen so much that no doubt he would sooner see her married to a human than forced into a political marriage!  Finally, Glorfindel was more than a little suspicious that Elrond had grown so fond of his fosterling that he was reluctant to let him go for that reason alone.  On this score Glorfindel—and Erestor, with whom he had at length discussed the matter—felt some anxiety lest Elrond willingly deceive himself into believing that Anomen needed to remain in Rivendell longer than truly necessary.  Two conversations that he had had with Elrond were cases in point.  One took place after he and Erestor had returned from negotiating with Thranduil over the Council; the second after he had come back from the Battle of Dol Guldur.  In both conversations, Elrond had again and again returned to Thranduil's apparent lack of emotion over the loss of his son.

"So he did not seem at all moved when Erestor expressed his condolences?"  Glorfindel remembered that Elrond had asked the same question over and over again, the wording varying slightly each time. 

"No, Elrond, but the setting was public; mayhap Thranduil's reaction was meant for public consumption as well."

Elrond had shaken his head, unconvinced.  "Nay, Thranduil is a cold one.  Such an Elf should not be entrusted with the raising of a son."

Mithrandir had been present at this particular conversation.  "Have a care, Elrond.  It is not given to us to decide who has and who has not the right to their own children!"

"You should speak!" Elrond declared hotly.  "You have a hand in this matter as well as I!"  Then he stopped, aware that he had come close to breaching their unwritten understanding to never acknowledge outright Anomen's parentage.

"Well, well," said Mithrandir in a conciliatory tone, "we all of us want to do what is best—for all concerned.  No one doubts you, Elrond."

"Then let us drop this matter," demanded Elrond.

Irked at his friend for once, Glorfindel could not resist one final shot.  "If I recall correctly, 'twas you insisted on bringing up the subject in the first place!"

Elrond glared at him, his facile eyebrows contracting violently.  Glorfindel, to the amazement not only of Elrond and Mithrandir but himself, responded by sticking out his tongue at his old friend!

Elrond truly did 'laugh so hard he cried', and Glorfindel followed suit.  As for Mithrandir, he was incapable of speech for a good quarter of an hour.  Even then, for the rest of the day he would from time to time begin chuckling in the middle of a sentence, no matter how serious the subject.  By the end of the day, Erestor thought the three of them quite mad!

Standing on the field of battle, Glorfindel found himself laughing at the memory of that day.

"Glorfindel, are you alright?"  Elrond's voice interrupted his merriment.

"Yes, Elrond, I was merely indulging myself in a memory.  You go now and indulge yourself in that bath."

In short order, Elrond, Anomen, and the twins were splashing water over themselves and washing away the grime of battle.  As they did so, Elrohir remembered a thought he had had just before the Orcs and half-goblins had unleashed their attack.

"Ada, you said that you knew of a concoction that would remove the dye from our hour.  I for one would like to make use of it.  I do not think brightly colored hair is wise for a warrior who wishes to remain undetected!"

Anomen and Elladan concurred.

"Very well.  As soon as we return to Rivendell, I will mix up some of the wash.  I think you are wise, my sons, in returning to your former hair, and I hope that, when it comes to your future pranks, that hair will now be off-limits!"

Anomen and the twins assured him that it would be.

At that very moment, their hair was in fact a topic of conversation.  Glorfindel was right.  Two half-goblins had indeed escaped from the mêlée.

"We'd best get back to the master an' tell'im wot's wot."

"_You kin go back t'the master.  The last fella brought 'im bad news, he had his throat cut!  An' we gots bad news, no denyin' it."_

"'Tain't our fault!  How's we to know there'ud be _three Elves wit' pe-ku-lu-lar hair."_

"Our fault or no, the master's gonna kill us."

After arguing back and forth for awhile, the half-goblins agreed that returning to their master would likely be a fatal move.  They disappeared into the Misty Mountains, no doubt hoping to meet up with and join a band of renegade Orcs.  What their fate was, no one ever knew.

As for their 'master', deprived of news of the battle, he left standing his order that any Elf with unusual hair was to be brought to him straightaway.  However, never again in the Third Age was there to be seen either a bald Elf or one with crimson, purple, or blue hair.  So it was that Saruman was thwarted yet again.

**What will Elrond and Glorfindel do to Estel once they get him back to Rivendell?  And will our three repressed adolescent Elves finally be able to make sense of their budding (exploding is more like it) sexuality?  Stay tuned to fanfiction.net for the further adventures of Anomen and his band of merry Elves.**


	7. Curiosity Satisfied

**Oops.  I guess I made it sound as if Chapter 6 was going to be the last chapter in this particular story.  Actually, this chapter is the last one.  I had a few loose ends to tie up, such as Estel's fate at the hands of a frazzled Elrond and an indignant Glorfindel.**

_Karri:  _I'm glad you like the snippets foreshadowing that Anomen will one day be reunited with Thranduil.  By the way, I love your story about the squirrel and the mud puddle!  ROTFL!  ^_^

_Farflung__: Yes, I think in this instance Elrond is permitting his judgment to be clouded by his affection.  But, hey, if __you had a grip on Anomen/Legolas/Orlando, would _you_ let go?_

_Kitsune__: I'm not sure I want to let Saruman get in another shot at Anomen.  I don't want to wear out that plot device.  I'm thinking of introducing some different perils—send them up north for a change, instead of southward, and see what they encounter in that direction._

_Dragonfly: _Yep, tricksy elveses.  Yes, Estel did in effect save Anomen and the twins, and that fact does save his hide, as you will see in this concluding chapter.

_MoroTheWolfGod__: OK! OK!  I'm hurrying!  I'm hurrying! ^_^  Hey, do more with the horses!_

After the Elves had cleansed the battlefield and purified themselves, they decided to travel part of the way back to Rivendell.  Elves dislike lingering close to scenes of bloodshed.  As it was late by the time they had set up camp and eaten supper, Elrond decided to leave until the morrow the conversation that he and Glorfindel were going to have with Estel.  But perhaps waiting until the morning was not wise, for when the little human arose, the terror and pain of the previous day seemed to have dwindled in his memory.  He cavorted about the camp chattering with all and sundry.

"Estel seems to be his usual irrepressible self," observed Glorfindel sourly.

Elrond sighed.  "He reminds me of Arwen.  Many a time I have wished that she were easier to frighten.  Pity she will be in Lothlórien for two decades at least.  I am sure those two would enjoy each other's company."

"Well, they will meet again someday and become fast friends, I am sure."

Elrond nodded.  "Be that as it may, now I must find the means to impress upon Estel the fact that he cannot wander at will."

"Why don't you ask Anomen what argument worked at last upon _him?"_

Elrond sighed again.  "As you know all too well, the only arguments that at last bore fruit were the dictates of Anomen's own increasing maturity."

"You shall have to wait long before the same arguments bear fruit with Estel!"

Elrond nodded morosely.  "I fear you may be right, mellon-nîn.  Nevertheless, I must do my best."  He called to the child.  "Estel!"

Estel looked toward his voice and saw Elrond and Glorfindel standing side by side, faces grim.  This was obviously a situation that called for a pre-emptive strike, although, of course, that phrase was not part of the child's vocabulary.  Estel scampered directly to Elrond and threw his arms around the elf-lord's knees.  "Ada!" he crowed.

"Humph," thought Elrond, "_now the imp would choose to call me 'Ada'.  Only last week he dropped the 'Lord' in favor of 'Elrond' alone."_

"Ada," said Estel in a rush, "I am so very, very sorry about the trellis.  You must be dreadfully angry.  Will you ever forgive me!?"

"Estel," replied the elf-lord, "I am not particularly troubled about the trellis, but I must point out that—"

"Oh, I am so glad that you are not dreadfully angry about the trellis.  You do not get angry easily.  You are a good, kind, dear father.  Yes, Ada, that is what you are, a good, kind, dear—"

"Estel," Elrond tried to interrupt.

"I know, Ada.  Even a good, kind, dear father must punish a tiny little child who breaks a trellis.  I won't blame you for punishing me for breaking the trellis."

Elrond groaned and looked helplessly at Glorfindel.  The balrog-slayer cleared his throat.  "Estel," he growled in the most awful voice he could summon.

Estel clung more tightly to Elrond's knees and looked up appealingly at his 'Ada'.

"Estel," continued Glorfindel.  "_I_ do not care about that trellis in the least."

 Estel brightened.  "Oh, I am very glad.  Then _you_ won't want to punish me at all!"

"The trellis is not important.  But _climbing down _the trellis is!"

"Oh, yes, Lord Glorfindel.  Climbing down the trellis turned out to be _very important.  If I hadn't climbed down the trellis, I wouldn't have gotten out of Rivendell, and if I hadn't gotten out of Rivendell, then you wouldn't have come looking for me, and if you hadn't come looking for me, then you wouldn't have been able to rescue Elladan and Elrohir and Anomen, and if you hadn't rescued Elladan and Elrohir and Anomen, then those nasty Orcs would be eating them for supper _right now_!  So, yes, I do understand that climbing down the trellis was _very_ important!"_

It was now Glorfindel's turn to look helplessly at Elrond.  "Perhaps," said that elf-lord, "we should let his tutor, Erestor, explain matters to the child.  Events may still be too near at hand for them to be explicated satisfactorily.  Moreover," he added, "mayhap we should also press Anomen into service.  He would be able to talk to Estel in terms that the little human would be able to comprehend." 

Glorfindel shrugged his shoulders, and so the two elf-lords yielded the field, so to speak, to the precocious little Dúnadan.  Muttered the balrog-slayer as they walked away, "I pity the diplomats and ambassadors who will someday sit opposite that child."

"Aye," said Elrond.  "I suspect Estel will always best his counterparts in negotiations over trade and alliances.  Well, let us mount up and resume our journey to Imladris.  The sooner we arrive, the sooner Erestor will take this child off our hands!"

Mithrandir was at the Hall when the weary troop of Elves rode through the gates of Rivendell.  He had arrived immediately after Elrond and Glorfindel had departed in pursuit of Estel.

"Ah, Anomen," he said merrily.  "I see that you have been having adventures in my absence.  And you once again have taken along Estel.  Well, well."

"I did not 'take along' Estel," protested Anomen.

"No, did you not?  By the way, when I was strolling in the garden this morning, I noticed that a trellis no longer stands beneath your window.  A new one has been built to the side, shorter and out of reach.  Would there be a reason for that?"

Anomen blushed.  How did Mithrandir _do that!?  It would not be the last time that he would wonder this._

A few days later Mithrandir invited Anomen to accompany him to the banks of the River Bruinen.  Mithrandir had spent much of his time closeted with Elrond, Glorfindel, and Erestor, so Anomen was grateful to have a chance for a private talk with his mentor.  Mithrandir questioned him closely about all his doings, nodding approvingly for the most part, frowning occasionally, and putting in a few words either of advice or remonstration.  At last they reached the river.  Mithrandir stared at it thoughtfully.

"This river is a powerful weapon against the enemy."

"In what way, Mithrandir?" asked Anomen curiously.

"Ah, did you not know that the waters will rise up against any foe who may try to cross the Bruinen?"

Anomen shook his head.

"Yes, it is so.  Enemies may assault Rivendell from other directions but it is to be hoped that they will not enter from this side—not as long as water fills the channel.  I pray that drought never causes it to run dry."

"If this becomes known," said Anomen thoughtfully, "the enemy may try to dam the waters upstream of the realm of Imladris."

Mithrandir nodded grimly.  "Aye, I would not put it past the enemy to try to torture the very shape of the earth in pursuit of its ends.  That is why Elrond has the valley patrolled constantly, so that he may receive early news of any attempt to tamper with the channel."  Suddenly Mithrandir changed tack.  "Look you at that bend in the river.  Would it not be dramatic if a herd of watery horses thundered round those rocks and galloped down to that point there?"

Anomen let his imagination bloom.  "Aye, very dramatic indeed.  Will you conjure such a herd?"

"Not today, I think." The Istar had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were seeing visions of a time to come.  At last the wizard shook his head abruptly, as if ridding himself of unwanted thoughts.

"Come.  Let us turn back toward the Hall."

Mithrandir resumed his questioning of Anomen and began to ask him about Estel as well.  After a while, Anomen excused himself and stepped behind a tree.  To his surprise, Mithrandir promptly joined him.

"You don't mind sharing this tree, do you?"

"Oh, no, of course not."

Now or never, thought Anomen.  Briefly he looked slantwise at the wizard.  Mithrandir was looking straight ahead and did not seem to notice.

Finished, the two resumed their path toward home. 

"Well," said Mithrandir cheerfully, "I have satisfied _my_ curiosity today, and I hope you have satisfied _yours_."

_How, _oh how, did Mithrandir _do_ that!?

Back at the Hall, Anomen at once went in search of the twins.  He found Elladan and Elrohir in the stable currying their horses.  "I have important news," he announced solemnly.  "Mithrandir must have had a mother and a father—either that, or the Valar have equipped him with redundant parts."

Elrohir looked delighted, but Elladan stared at him aghast.

"I hope you still have all _your parts!"_

Anomen looked uneasy.  "Excuse me for a moment."  He went in search of an empty stall.  After a while he returned, relief on his face.  "Everything is there."

"Yes," said Elladan darkly, "but in working order?"

"As to that," said Anomen, "I will drink a little water and tell you shortly."

Elladan gazed at him with amazement, and Elrohir with amusement.

"Anomen," chortled Elrohir, "have you no other way of making sure that those parts are in operational order!?"

"What other way would there be?" asked Anomen innocently.

Elladan and Elrohir hooted with laughter.

"Elladan," gasped Elrohir, "it is no wonder that the Mirkwood Elves have been dwindling in number!"

"They have been dwindling," protested Anomen indignantly, "because of the depredations of spiders and Orcs!"

"Aye," agreed Elladan, "but you must admit that the, ah, replacement rate has been very low!  Elrohir, mayhap we should mount a mission of mercy to our benighted Mirkwood brethren."

"Aye, brother," said Elrohir with mock seriousness.  "But first, don't you think we should explain matters to Anomen here."

"Oh, indubitably brother!  But," added Elladan, "I draw the line at demonstrating!"

"Agreed.  We will enlighten him, but from there, he will have to take matters into his own hands."

"So to speak."

"Aye, so to speak." 

Whilst this lighthearted exchange was taking place, Elrond and Mithrandir were having an exchange of their own.

"Elrond," said Mithrandir, rolling his glass between his hands, "Elladan and Elrohir each have separate rooms, but Anomen shares with Estel.  Why is that?  He is nearly of an age with the twins."

"True," replied Elrond, "and Anomen did indeed have his own room for a while, but when Estel arrived, I had a bed placed for him in Anomen's room.  I thought it best that the child have companionship for a time, and I believed that as a fosterling himself Anomen could best help Estel adjust to his new surroundings."

"No doubt a wise decision, but now Estel seems to have made himself quite at home.  I think Anomen should once again have a room of his own."

"Have you any reason for your sudden interest in these domestic arrangements?"

"Yes.  I think Anomen may need the privacy to explore his inner Elf—as well, I might add, as his outer one!"

Elrond groaned.  "His outer Elf!?  Oh, would that this next century would pass as quickly as a decade."

"Be careful what you wish for," warned Mithrandir.  "The century after this one will bring its own challenges."

Elrond nodded.  "Yes, you are correct, my old friend.  This will be the century of talking and smirking."

"And looking," added Mithrandir, with a smile.

"Aye, and looking!  But in another century—"  Elrond shuddered.  "Mithrandir, my friend, please pour me another drink!"

Now it was Mithrandir who raised an eyebrow.  Elrond scowled at him.

"I do not think that it would be out of order for me to have a second glass of wine once every century or so!"

"You have," Mithrandir pointed out, "already had two."

"Very well, then.  A _third_ glass of wine."

Mithrandir laughed but refilled Elrond's glass.  The two friends raised their glasses for a toast.

"May this century, _and the next, pass quickly," Elrond declared fervently.  With that the two friends drained their glasses, but they both knew that it would require more than the fortifying influence of an occasional glass of wine for them, and their charges, to come through the next centuries unscathed!_

**So ends another episode in the life of Anomen and his merry band of co-conspirators.   Now I must keep a promise and post a story that is set several centuries back, when Anomen was much younger and a relative newcomer to Rivendell.  Action and Angst fans, do not fret; after I post the elfling story (to be titled "Elfling Retribution") I will return promptly to running our beloved Anomen through the twin mills of warfare and sexuality.  So many stories and so little time!**


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